Lost at a Crossroad
by shmobeline
Summary: Numair has a rude awakening after accidentally thinking of Daine while spending the night with Varice. Set during Emperor Mage.


_Lost at a Crossroad_

Numair stared up at the intricately carved ceiling, having given up trying to sleep for the moment. It was just visible in the darkened room, moonlight casting shadows across the gilding and creating images and shapes that the mage doubted could be seen during the day. A soft, warm breeze made the gauzy curtains over the window swell lazily, and the rhythmic chirping of cicadas sounded through the air. A person couldn't ask for a more perfect Carthaki evening, and yet...

And yet...

Numair felt the bed shift beneath him and looked over towards his bedmate. The slim, blonde woman was just finishing resettling herself, and now lay with her back to him. The thin sheet that covered them both was only drawn up to her hips, and Numair could see the small birthmark below her right shoulder blade that had once been so familiar to him. Varice had been as lively between the sheets as he remembered. She'd always been a woman who knew what she liked and wasn't afraid to take a little control until she got it. He respected her immensely for it. It might even have been what drew him to her in the first place.

But the spark that had been present so many years ago in university had been entirely absent. Of course, she was still an incredibly attractive woman – there was no doubting that – but there'd been no connection. It had been fun and for the most part allowed him to forget his many stressors, but he couldn't say any more than that. It had been much the same as every other casual encounter he'd had in his life. He supposed it had been naïve to expect even an echo of what had once been there; so much time had passed and they had both changed too much.

But his slightly-less-than-stellar rendezvous with Varice was not what was keeping him awake. Or at least, it wasn't _Varice_ that kept him up. It was Daine.

Numair scrubbed a hand over his face as his mind drifted back a little earlier in the evening, when he'd been moving against Varice's lithe body in search of her release (though, if he were totally honest, he'd been more preoccupied with finding his own than helping Varice to hers). Generally, Numair preferred to watch his partner during sex rather than close his eyes. The expressions on her face tended to be a lot more stimulating than the darkness behind his eyelids, not to mention the sense of achievement it gave him to see her so undone because of him.

This time, however, his eyes kept wanting to drift closed and each time he gave in he glimpsed in his mind's eye Daine's soft brown curls, her unassuming smile, her sparkling blue-grey eyes. He couldn't get the image of her out of his head, and had to continually force his eyes back to Varice. He tried focussing on his movements; on Varice's appreciative moans; on _anything_ that might keep his mind off his fifteen-year-old student. He managed successfully for a time, but as he felt himself nearing the edge he lost the tenuous grasp on his control and his mind provided an irresistible image for him. His eyes were closed, but he saw Daine beneath him; her cheeks flushed and pupils dilated, her red lips parted as she panted. She rolled her hips in time with his, and he almost tumbled over the edge when she met his eyes with a heated gaze. He caught her lips in a passionate kiss, then let his forehead drop to the mattress beside her neck, clutching her close as he shuddered through his release.

Numair remembered laying there until Varice started murmuring to him and he'd recalled his surroundings. Numair glanced over at the sleeping woman again, watching her breathe steadily, and thanked Mithros that he wasn't a very vocal lover. He was confident that he hadn't called out Daine's name or anything equally as damning. Not that he wouldn't have deserved it, the mage thought bitterly. Despite the warm air, Numair felt cold with guilt.

He'd been placed in a position of trust in Daine's life, and had abused it terribly. True enough, this wasn't the first time that he'd ever pictured her in that way – in the past few months he'd had one or two dreams about her. But a person couldn't help the dreams he had, and they had been nowhere near as explicit. This was entirely different. He should have been strong enough to banish her from his mind. It was completely unacceptable. Numair's hands balled into tight fists, furious with himself.

It wasn't that he still thought of Daine as a child – not at all. He might be easily distracted by academics, but he was not _that_ unobservant of the people around him. Daine had become a young woman before his eyes, and Numair supposed it was only natural that he should notice. There was a difference, however, between taking note of her more mature way of thinking, carriage, and appearance and _fantasising_ about her. As grown up as she was swiftly becoming, Numair was still her teacher and there were lines that simply could not be crossed.

Could not be crossed for a little while yet, anyway.

Numair sat up abruptly, disgusted with himself for that thought. Sternly, he reminded himself that he was _not_ interested in Daine. She was too much his junior for anything to develop in that respect.

Realising that sleep was well and truly out of the question for tonight, Numair decided a walk to clear his head would do him good. He pushed the sheet away and swung his long legs out of bed, his feet resting on the floor. He felt movement behind him and then several fingers on the small of his back.

"Arram?" Varice asked drowsily.

She was leaning up on one elbow, not bothering to cover herself with the sheet. Numair found it surprisingly easy to keep his eyes on her face.

"Just getting some fresh air," he replied quietly. "Go back to sleep."

Varice nodded and then slumped back down against her pillow.

The warm breeze brushed against his bare skin as he picked his clothes up off the floor and dressed, not bothering to tuck his shirt into his breeches. He pulled his boots on as quietly as possible and slipped out through the door. He walked down the deserted corridor away from Varice's suite, taking care to step quietly. Wondering vaguely about the time, the mage absently re-tied his hair.

Chuckling quietly, Numair remembered one of his first conversations with Daine, when she'd taught him the trick of wetting hair ties. It had been scarcely two years since they'd first met, yet so much had happened, and so much had changed. _They'd_ changed. Daine was no longer that shy, hurting little girl, and he had learnt so much from her.

Numair had long had a tendency to over-complicate things. He thought that was probably a legacy of so much academic study. Daine, on the other hand, viewed the world much more simply. She had a keen sense of justice, and did what she felt was right. That was her whole mode of operation. After years of involvement with political giants she'd been a breath of fresh air in his life, but the wildmage had become so much more to him than that.

He loved her. That didn't require consideration. It was fact. She was stubborn and took risks and wasn't afraid to scold him, and he loved her. She was easy to talk to and he confided in her more readily than he did in anyone else, despite her being half his age. She was wise beyond her years in so many ways, yet retained a kind of childlike wonderment about the world that Numair envied. And she had learnt from the hardships of her childhood rather than allow them to overwhelm her. In truth, Numair admired her.

But he had never once _consciously_ thought of his young student in quite the way he had last night. Guilt settled in his stomach once more as the image of Daine beneath him reappeared in his mind, and he struggled to force it out. Numair let out a quick, frustrated breath. Objectively, he could see why he might have thought of her. She was beautiful. He could admit that happily. But she was too much his friend; too much his _ward_ for him to see her in that way. And yet Goddess bless if Daine's image hadn't near on instantly finished him. It didn't make any sense to him. Wryly he thought this might not be a problem he could rationalise his way out of.

He rounded the corner into the hallway that would take him through the guest wing and out onto a balcony overlooking the gardens. The tall mage rubbed the back of his neck as he walked. He _didn't_ want to go to bed with Daine. Did he? Suddenly – and worryingly – Numair wasn't sure anymore. Not that he _would_, of course, but he thought the first step to sorting out this mess was to ascertain exactly what this mess was.

Daine was... She was... Numair pictured her as she'd looked at last night's banquet, all cascading brown curls and bright blue-grey eyes in her soft pale purple and gold gowns. She hadn't been dressed to allure in the same way Varice had been, but she radiated a quiet, understated kind of beauty. He imagined her fluttering her eyelashes demurely at him, and almost had to laugh. Daine was not the type to flirt so obviously, he thought. Instead he imagined himself leaning down to kiss her, and then guiding her towards his bed in Corus, and that was enough. Numair pushed the image away before it could go further, angry with himself again for willingly picturing even the lead up to sex with his student.

There was no denying it now, though. That brief vision alone had been enough to set off the tell-tale beginnings of arousal. His attraction to Daine was different to his attraction to Varice, but it was there all the same. With Varice it was – it _had_ been – like a forest fire. Only without all the destruction. And death. Numair had never been very good with similes. But there had been a spark, and then everything developed rather quickly and passionately after that. With Daine, though... Well. He hadn't even noticed until he was confronted with it. She really had no part in the group of people and things and feelings that were associated with sex in his mind. _And it should stay that way_, he told himself sternly while the back of his mind wondered helplessly what it would be like.

Sex with Daine... The thought alone sent a wave of shivers down his spine and his mouth grew dry. Numair mentally shook himself and realised he'd slowed to a stand-still just outside the archway that opened into the Tortallan delegation's common sitting area. He wiped his clammy hands on his breeches and wet his lips. He ought not even entertain the thought of himself with Daine. It could lead him nowhere good. He would never act on it, but thinking about it seemed too much like inviting trouble. Instead he reminded himself of every reason why he and Daine could never and should never happen, starting with his status as her teacher and ending with the fact that she had never once shown any romantic inclinations towards him whatsoever.

They would stay just as they were, and his attraction to her would pass in time, he was sure. Her friendship was _more_ than enough for him.

He walked through the arch and started towards the balcony. As he passed by Daine's room, he noticed the door was ajar and, surprised, he pushed the door open. Peering inside he saw Kitten and Daine's little marmoset sleeping quietly on her bed, but no Daine. Cold swept through Numair's body. Where was she? At home in Tortall he would have paid no mind to her disappearance, but this was Carthak, and they were surrounded by enemies.

Numair rushed out onto the balcony and scanned the gardens for the her, hoping against hope that she'd simply gone for a very early-morning walk, but he couldn't see any movement. He frantically tried to think of other places she might be and thought of the baths. He walked quickly and quietly back through their collection of rooms and into the palace, then half-ran, half-walked to the bathing rooms. He burst through the door into the women's baths without so much as a pause to consider the state of undress she – and anyone else – might be in if she was there to bathe, his worry completely overshadowing his common sense.

He couldn't see her, but called her name just to be sure she wasn't tucked behind any walls or dressing screens. When he got no response he thought of the aviary, and wondered why he hadn't tried there first. It was the most obvious place for her to be. He started towards that wing of the palace.

The door was firmly locked when he tried it. Rather than waste time figuring out the mechanism, Numair simply threw his Gift at it, the pressure forcing the locking spells to deactivate. The mage rushed into the aviary, looking around him for his student. Instead he spotted the Emperor of Carthak. He was bending down to look at a small tropical bird.

"Ozorne!" Numair yelled. The tall black man turned towards him. "Where's Daine?" he asked, eyes flashing.

Ozorne lifted his chin higher into the air. "Draper," he spat.

"Where is she?" the mage asked again, pausing menacingly between each word.

A smug smile played around Ozorne's lips. "Veralidaine? Why do you ask? Is she missing?" he replied.

Numair glared at the other man. "I've checked the baths, and the gardens, and she is nowhere to be found. If she is here and you are concealing her from me-"

"Be assured, Draper, she is not here. We had hoped she would be, to see how our birds have improved." Ozorne gestured vaguely around the aviary.

"If they have, then you have no further need of her. We all prefer that you leave her in peace."

"We are inclined to give her grace and favour. She has served us well, and we wish to reward her," Ozorne replied haughtily, clearly not interested in conceding anything to Numair.

"She requires no rewards for your providing, Your Imperial_ Majesty_," Numair said. Garnering any kind of attention from Ozorne was dangerous, regardless of whether it was good or bad. He wanted to keep Daine as far away from the Carthaki Emperor as he could. "She is well enough as she is."

"Such heat over a girl child, and one without family or connection to recommend her," Ozorne replied, eyes calculating. "Why concern yourself in her affairs? You will forget she exists the moment some rare tome of magic comes into your hands, or some arcane toy. That has always been your way. You take up with someone, make them feel you are their sworn friend, then turn on them the moment you have what you wanted from them."

Numair fought the urge to roll his eyes. "How like you to see it in those terms," he retorted. "She is my student. You will never understand that. You never could sustain so profound a tie," he said tauntingly. "Once you gained your throne, you decided you no longer required mere human bonds."

As Ozorne stared back at Numair the set of his jaw changed and he smiled slightly, looking down to eye his fingernails.

"Human bonds," he said quietly. "I am certain you and your lovely student have a _most_ profound bond." His eyes flicked up and he looked at Numair's face again. "Must you share a bed with her animals as well as with her?"

Without thinking, Numair's fist lashed out at Ozorne, slamming against the emerald green fire of the Emperor's Gift. Magic and pain lanced up his arm, and he jerked it back. Ozorne smiled at Numair as he rubbed his arm.

"If you interfere with her, if you harm her in any way, it will be a breach of the peace accords," he told Ozorne, fury and pain affecting his normally steady voice. "All of the Eastern Lands will unite to destroy you."

With that, Numair turned and left the aviary, letting the door slam behind him. He nursed his arm a little as he walked back towards the guest wing, hoping that Daine might've returned. For all the time Ozorne had spent simply baiting Numair, there'd been an air of truth about his not knowing Daine's whereabouts. Maybe she has just gone for a walk. It wouldn't be the first time.

For now Numair was more worried about the things he had told Ozorne through his rash attempt to school the Emperor for making comment on his relationship with Daine. Why, oh why, hadn't he laughed it off like every other snide remark that was made? He'd lost his head when he'd needed it most. Ozorne had always known exactly how to rile him, and Numair had still let him do it. And because of that mistake, Ozorne surely now realised that Daine was Numair's weakness, and the mage knew without a doubt that the Emperor would make use of that information before the delegation left Carthak.

Numair sighed, disappointed in himself. Ozorne had made that comment about him and Daine sleeping together and he'd just seen red. Perhaps if he hadn't only recently been agonising over just that thought and it hadn't come from his former best friend he might have been able to react like an adult rather than a senseless schoolboy. Maybe it was simply a knee-jerk reaction now to prove with force the invalidity of suggestions that he was interfering with Daine.

Maybe part of it was to prove to himself again that he never would.

The others were sitting down to breakfast when he arrived. He murmured a few 'good morning's, then sat down and served himself some eggs, ignoring curious looks. No doubt they were wondering why he'd come in from the hallway and not his room.

A short while later Daine arrived, explaining that she'd gone to the aviary to check on the birds and gotten lost on her way back. Numair watched as she picked some fruit from the platter, wondering if she'd been in the aviary at the same time as him and Ozorne. He hoped not. That was one conversation he'd prefer to keep between himself and Ozorne.

Numair found it a little more difficult than usual to keep his eyes away from Daine as they ate. The fondness he always felt when he considered her was there, but it was like a spell had been tripped that he couldn't reverse. Things that he hadn't really noticed before – like her lips – jumped out at him. There was one occasion when she took a bite out of a plum just as her glanced over at her, and his gaze was transfixed as he watched her lick juice from her lips and chewed the dark flesh of the plum. It took her looking at him and smiling a little confusedly before he snapped out of it. He gave her a small smile and hurriedly went back to his bread.

He sincerely hoped this wasn't a permanent development. To be so aware of her at all times would quickly become nightmarish. Even over the half hour that they sat eating breakfast found himself getting more and more irritated at his sheer inability to go more than a minute without glancing at his student. It was not helping his already black mood.

As breakfast finished and the party rose to leave, Numair said to his student, "Daine, you asked to speak to me alone. Let's go to my room."

Daine nodded, and Alanna turned to look at Numair. "Then I go, too."

"It isn't needful," Daine explained. "It's just a magic thing."

"If you visit a man's room, you need a chaperone," Alanna replied. "Really, Numair, you know Carthakis. They think an unveiled woman is no better that she ought to be. Until we leave here, you can't talk with her unless she is chaperoned or you can manage it in public."

Numair felt his cheeks burn at the reprimand, but he was faintly proud that the thought that he could hypothetically use this time to take advantage of Daine hadn't even crossed his mind. "A fine thing, when I can't talk to my student alone. Let's go, then."

He followed the two women to his room, and heard Daine softly ask Alanna, "Did Varice have a chaperone?"

Numair's eyes widened. How could Daine tell that Varice had been in his rooms before they'd left together to spend the night in hers?

The Lioness swatted Daine with her foot. "Perhaps she didn't want one for what she was here to do," she replied just as softly.

Numair closed the door with rather more force than was necessary, and used his Gift to guard the room against listening spells.

"It's safe now," he said, a little snippily. He sat next to Alanna. "Talk."

Daine explained about the badger's warning and demonstrated her new powers of reanimation on the stuffed vulture in his room. Numair advised her against using them again until they got back to Tortall, if at all possible. He gave her a cats-eye agate to make it easier to get the vulture back to her rooms.

Just as Daine was passing him on her way out, with her eyes downcast, she said, "Numair – you shouldn't have tried to hit him. I don't think he liked it." Then she rushed out into the hall, vulture hopping after her.

Well. So much for keeping the conversation private.

"Numair?" Alanna said from behind him. "Who did you try to hit?"

"No one," he replied shortly, and then left without a backward glance.

He walked resignedly to the hall in which the treaty discussions were held, steeling himself for another long day of tedious and largely fruitless debating. Still, at least the politics might take his mind away from Daine, and while Alanna now knew that Numair had been going around attempting to hit people, she wouldn't be able to question him until luncheon at the earliest. Now that he was on his own, his lack of sleep was beginning to catch up to him again, and Numair briefly wondered if he'd manage to stay awake through the discussions at all. On the upside, he would probably be asleep before he hit his pillow that night, and he could leave worrying about Daine and his undeniable attraction to her 'til another time.

A/N: Thanks very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!


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